Tumblr Fandoms
by cutie3239
Summary: On Dec. 4, 2012, I told Tumblr I'd write a fanfic for the first thousand to reblog. These are their stories. They are many different fandoms involved, including: Divergent, Hunger Games, Supernatural, Doctor Who, Sherhlock, and Vampire Diaries. Rated M for safety
1. Note

This is a collection of one-shot stories I wrote for a thousand members on Tumblr. Each person has their own story, with a minimum of a thousand words. Go ahead and look through the stories, read your own, read others, and make friends based off of similar interests.

Follow my Tumblr (randomfandomsramble) for more fun stuff. Who knows, maybe I'll do this again. Eventually.


	2. Merble

**For user: Merble. Fandom: Divergent trilogy**

* * *

It felt like a dream, a nightmare. The bodies flooded the streets and my hands shook with fear as the gun dropped from my hands. Sure, I had fired a gun during initiation, but I've never killed anyone.

Other members from the Dauntless fraction surrounded me, all with the same shocked fear on their faces, staring down at the lifeless abnegation bodies at our feet. Growing up Dauntless didn't prepare me for this. The initiation didn't help either. There was spilt blood on the ground for no reason, and I had shot so many people. Men, women, a little girl no more than two years old who ran screaming for her mother.

I crumbled to the ground, my platinum blonde hair falling over my bare shoulders, and the cold feeling of frozen tears fell from my hazel eyes. _I'm Dauntless_, I repeated steadily in my mind. _I was raised for this. I am not weak. _But the tears continued to fall freely and splatter on the red ground.

"Sara!" the heavily masculine voice yelled my name just before hot, strong arms wrapped around me. It didn't even bother me when my brother, Dylan, lifted me from the ground and pulled me to his chest. "Sara, we need to get out of here."

"What…" I whispered, glancing down at the blood on my fingertips. "What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," he stated as his fingers wrapped tightly around one of my wrists. "All I know is that we can't stay here. We have to leave."

"And go where?" i demanded back as Dylan started to push his way through the crowds, not caring who he was walking past. It was an aspect of Dylan that I never had: her brother was always so sure of himself, and when he had an idea, he went for it. It was also in Dylan's belief that he had to protect his baby sister.

When I was fourteen, a group of transfer initiates thought it was fun to hold me above the chasm by my ankles. Dylan, who was also an initiate at the time, had come running and found me. Needless to say, this small act caused Dylan to both be chastised and placed to the top of his ranks.

"We'll go to the Fractionless," Dylan stated as he's steps became faster, forcing me to run behind him. "Get away from this mess, and see if we can get out of the city, and-"

"Dylan!" I yelled as I pulled my wrist from Dylan's grasp, causing him to stop running and look down at me, his own hazel eyes streaked with worry. One of his many fears he had to face in the simulation was if something horrible happened to me, and when I saw the fear behind his eyes, I quieted my voice. "Dylan, we can't just run away. What about the others? Where will we go?"

It took a moment, but Dylan finally nodded his head. "We'll figure it out," he whispered as he turned and started toward a whole in the ground that lead to an underground tunnel; a sewer system. "But, for now, we need to get away from the Erudite's eyes."

Dylan dropped down into the sewer, as though he knew exactly where he was going. And maybe he did since, for most of our lives, I had spent more times than not lying for when Dylan would randomly disappear. And it was Dylan's sureness in himself that I dropped down into the tunnel and followed him.

* * *

"It's not that much farther," Dylan whispered over his shoulder as he pushed himself past cobwebs and rats that found their way in his path. And almost directly after Dylan said that, a light shined down the tunnel in front of them.

Though I tried to push past Dylan to see what was ahead, he was much larger than my petite frame, and he had more muscular strength in his arms than I had in my entire body. "What do you want, Dauntless?" I heard a gruff voice demand from behind the slowly approaching light.

"Sanction," Dylan stated back as he matched the slow steps of the stranger in front of us. "We were forced against our will to fight against the Abnegation, and I know you'll help us."

"What makes you so sure?" the voice growled back, and it was at that moment that I recognized the voice.

While Dylan may have been stronger and larger than I was, I was short and agile, and while he was distracted, it was easy for me to slip around him. "Drop the light," I demanded as Dylan tried to force me to get back behind him.

The light wavered for a moment, before lowering to light up the ground at the man's feet. He looked more tired and ragged, and his missing eye was covered with a bright red patch, but I knew I had seen that boy in the Dauntless compound before. "You were one of the transfer initiates, I recognize you," I stated as I stepped closer, ignoring the rifle that hung limply in the man's hands. "You're Edward, right?"

"Why does it matter to you who I am?" Edward asked back, his face twitching as memories struggled behind his eyes.

"Because I know you'll help us, because you know that whatever happened wasn't our fault." I stood my ground, and as my eyes re-adjusted to the darkness, I realized that Dylan and I were out-numbered 9-2. But I held myself up hire and looked into the one perfect eye of the Fractionless man in front of me.

There was a sharp, low growl deep within Edward's throat as he turned to speak to the other Fractionless behind him. "They're coming with us," he murmured. Then Edward stepped aside to let Dylan and I walk past.

I smiled back at Dylan as he caught up to me, and then the group was back to walking down the never-ending darkness. "How did you know he'd let you pass?" Dylan whispered to me as we walked.

"Where you're best feature is the fact you can punch holes through walls," I explained to Dylan, a smile still on my face, "my own secret power is that I can interrogate people without them knowing."


	3. thefangirlingauthor

**User: thefangirlingauthor Fandom: Game of Thrones**

Natalie stood in the kitchen and watched the Stark children talked about the pups and fed them pieces of meat. It was just her and Robb watching over the children, Jon having escaped already to some other part of the castle with his own pup. She didn't have even a chance to ask him what had occurred on their way back to Winterfell that had placed him in a foul mood.

She watched as each of them named their pups, and at how long it took the small Rickon to get the confidence to even play with his pup. "He still young," Robb had said to her as he held his pup – which he named Grey Wind – in his arms. "He'll get used to him."

"I know. It's just he seems to be the only one with any worry about befriending a direwolf," Natalie laughed as she sidestepped the running pups and headed out of the kitchen, Robb placing down his pup and following her.

Once the two were out in the hall, away from the sounds of his brothers and sisters gleeful activities, Natalie shouldered off her cloak and folded it into her arms. The two of them then walked in silence down the hall, further and further from the sounds of laughter and further into the heart of the castle. It was a walk Natalie knew well, for she often spent that time searching out her friends in the castle. The Starks never minded her being in their household, as long as she respected it as if it were her own home.

As they passed a window, Natalie paused and saw that the sun was already ducking down and touching the outer wall. "I had best be getting back," she said with a soft smile while keeping her eyes casted out the window. "The septa my father hired to keep watch over me tends to get very… upset if I'm not back before dark."

After the war, Natalie's father went to serve the king in his King's Guard, leaving her and her mother in Winterfell. But when Natalie's mother died of a fever when she was still but a child, he had sent a Septa to Winterfell to watch over her. While the Septa was caring, and the Starks acted like an extended family to her, Natalie still wished that she had her father to care for her.

Robb shook his head and laughed slightly at Natalie's words. "And why is it that your father thinks someone should watch over you? Have you given him reason not to trust you again?" he asked playfully as the two continued walking down the hall. He was hinting at the many letters that the Septa sent to her father. She was always keeping a diary of how Natalie was growing and forming into a young lady. But she also told him the stories that weren't becoming, like when she, Jon, and Robb took horses out for a midnight ride, and promptly got themselves caught by the guards.

"Me? No," Natalie laughed in reply as she played with one of the edges of the cloak. "He doesn't trust the ideas of what might happen if someone doesn't keep a constant eye on me during the night."

There was a light laughter between the two, and then they continued walking in silence. Natalie had often wished that her father would stay in Winterfell for long enough to see that she wasn't a child who needed watching. But she accepted that he was only trying to protect her, and was grateful for the fact that he didn't have the septa follow her everywhere she went.

"What if your father had another option?" Robb asked as the two descended a short staircase that would take them back out into the streets of Winterfell. "So he didn't have to worry while he was away."

"And what are you implying?" Natalie asked with a playful smile. "Do you want to lock me up in a tower and throw away the key, like in the stories Old Nan tells Rickon?"

But Robb had lost his playful demeanor, and had a very serious – but gentle – look upon his face. With a sigh, he took the cloak from Natalie and wrapped it around her shoulders, taking care to gently remove her hair from under the cloak. He pushed the brown curls behind her ear, a gloved hand brushing her cheek.

"Robb," Natalie laughed nervously, her eyes fluttering everywhere except for his face.

He then took her hands in his, and Natalie couldn't remove her eyes from the sight. "I have known you for most of my life," Robb said, and she could tell that he was staring at her as he spoke. "And I wish to see your face every day."

Natalie's hands began to shake, and Robb gave a gentle and reassuring squeeze before putting a finger under her chin and raising her face so that her eyes met his. "Natalie, I have never met another woman who has been able to make me do something that I would never want to do, nor someone who makes me wonder what she's doing when I'm not with her. So will you do me the honor and marry me? Promise me before the gods – old and new – that you will stay with me?"

Every heart beat could be heard in Natalie's ears as she took quick, deep breaths. _Marry_ Robb? He was her best friend, one of the few people who knew her better than anyone else. Could she love him the way that he loved her?

But when Natalie thought about where her heart belonged, she could never imagine a place that didn't have Robb with her. And when she wasn't with him, she wished she was. She had to admit it, she did love him.

So she nodded softly at first, her eyes still avoiding his. "Natalie?" Robb asked, a spark of hope in his voice.

Her hazel eyes met his steal blue ones, and a smile spread across her lips. "Yes," she finally answered, her voice light and all the nerves that were there before, gone. "I will. I promise."


	4. alexandrazk

**User: alexandrazk Fandom: The Vampire Diaries**

* * *

Sophie Harper stood in front of a large mirror, holding an ornate green gown to her chest as she modeled how it looked. There were red rubies embellished into the fabric, that made her red hair look like a dark fire against the bright stones, and the ocean-green fabric made her steel-blue eyes shine.

The dress, if she were to put it on, would have hung on Sophie's body perfectly, and would have made her look as though she belonged in the "Roaring 20's," and not the 21st century. But it may have been because that was when the dress was made. And when Sophie died.

On the records, Sophie had died in a small town in Louisiana in 1924, after a candle caught a curtain on fire during a large gala and burned the hall down. That night, five people died, and two bodies were never found: the bodies of Sophie Harper and Damon Salvatore.

Sophie could still find the places on the neck of the dress where the blood from her neck spilt past Damon's lips when he bit her, and the burn mark on the folds of the elaborate dress from when Sophie lifted the candle and threw it at Damon, missing by a fraction of an inch. She could never have forgiven Damon for turning her into a vampire, and there were countless moments when Sophie thought about how she would kill him.

With a sigh, Sophie tossed the dress onto the bed and slipped on a more modern outfit: a pair of blue jeans and a black camisole, her feet being decorated by a pair of silver high heels. Outside, the warm air of summer in New York City called to her, beckoning the Southern belle to explore the night life, and to feed upon the very essence of the city's life.

Picking up a black, leather purse, Sophie headed toward the door of her apartment, her interest sparked on the nightlife she still wasn't used to and her hunger growing. But those two feelings were quickly forgotten when she opened the door and saw the dreaded face of a blue-eyed man who killed her, and gave her new life. "Damon Salvatore," she drawled slowly as a snarl crossed her lips. "You better hurry to give me a reason as to why I shouldn't kill you."

"Tell me you haven't been enjoying yourself," Damon replied as he pushed past Sophie and into the apartment, hoping over the back of a couch that divided the living space from the kitchen. "Wait, you don't have to. The three college kids that went missing last night have your calling card on them. You're exploring the woman body now?"

Dropping her purse, Sophie rushed across the distance between her and Damon and stood over top of him on the couch, the stiletto heel of her shoe sitting right above his heart. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now and complete my waking dreams, because I have a hankering to shove this heel through your lovely chest."

"You think I'm lovely?" Damon chaffed before he knocked Sophie off her balanced and pinned her to the couch. His face was inches from her's, but she couldn't move a single muscle under his strength. "Don't forget," he hissed into her ear in a dark voice, "I am over half a century older than you, and stronger than you."

Sophie growled at Damon, knowing he was right but refusing to admit it. "What the hell do you want them, hm?" the southern girl demanded, a glare on her face. "Are you here to kill me – _again_ – because I've been a bad, little girl?"

"Actually, no," Damon answered as he got up off of her and headed toward her liquor cabinet that was on the opposite wall of the door, next to the door that led to Sophie's bedroom. Damon then pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a small glass. "I'm here to ask for your help."

"My help?" Sophie asked as she propped herself up on her elbows, still lying on the couch. "You know I've wanted to kill you since that day you turned me. Why do you think I'll help you now?"

"The Brotherhood of the Five. They're not dead," was all Damon answered as he downed his whole glass and set it down on a shelf in the cabinet.

Hearing about the Five stopped Sophie's mind in its tracks. She had heard of them before, but thought that they were all extinct. "You're lying."

"Nope, don't think so," Damon answered as he walked back across the room and squatted down next to the couch, placing himself at eye level with Sophie. It was then she realized how much different he looked: his eyes not nearly as intense, his movements not nearly as threatening, and his essence didn't hold the danger it once did. "You've changed," Damon finally whispered, echoing what Sophie thought as he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Don't side-step the topic," Sophie redirected, pulling attentions back to the topic. "How the hell do you know that The Five are still out there?"

"Because I've been dealing with them," he finally answered as he stood up and walked around the couch. Sophie leaned on the back of the couch, looking over it and following Damon with her eyes. "And if they find out that I was the one that turned you… I figured you should be prepared."

As Damon's hand reached for the doorknob, Sophie swung her body over the back of the couch and stepped between him and the door. "Look," she stated, holding her body firm between him and the door. "I still would love for you to be dead, but if The Five are going after you, I guess I could come and help you."

Damon looked down at Sophie with a look of questioning, so Sophie rolled her eyes and stated, "I'm not offering to help you for you. I want the pleasure of killing you, and I definitely don't want The Five to track me down and decide to kill me."

"That's the Sophie I remember," Damon snorted as he side-stepped her and let himself out of the apartment, leaving Sophie standing in her apartment alone, angry with herself that she didn't kill Damon and worried that she'd be the one running for her life in the end.


	5. foreveryoungforeverfun

**User: foreveryoungforeverfun Fandom: Hunger Games**

* * *

_This is if Katniss had won the 74__th__ Hunger Games alone. Her and Haymitch were the winners of the 3__rd__ Quarter Quell. It's now the 82__nd__ Hunger Games._

* * *

She was level-headed, strong willed, and above everything else, she was not one to back down from a fight. But there was one day that, every year, the sixteen-year-old girl couldn't see past the fog that had struck fear into many of the citizens of District 12. It was the day of the Reaping.

Most of the children had their names in the Reaping more than anyone wanted to count, but Jade Sherwood was unfortunately lucky, for her older brother, Kye, never allowed her to accept a tessera, and he took the responsibility of buying the tesseras for their family solely upon himself. Jade feared for her brother's life because, compared to the mere 15 times her name will be in the Reaping, Kye's name will be in the Reaping 112 times.

"Jade, come down," came the gentle, soft voice of the only person Jade trusted; her best friend, Luke Cain. He was the same age as her brother, and even hearing his voice sent a new wave of worry through Jade as she pulled her old jacket tighter around her petite frame.

Just like Kye, Jade had refused his younger sisters to take any tesseras, and so his name would be in the Reaping 140 times. "I'm not going," Jade replied from where she sat atop of an abandoned house, the only place she could ever find peace. "I can't watch the people we know go off to die for the Capitol's entertainment."

She heard the heavy sigh, and the creaking of the wooden ladder before she saw Luke's wheat-blonde hair and his muscular frame appear above the side of the roof. "You have to go. If you don't, the Peacekeepers will arrest you. Is that what you want? Is that something you want to put your family through?" It was one of the reasons why Jade had fallen for Luke: he was her mirror image. Whenever she was sad, he was always happy; when she was angry and hard-headed, he kept his cool. Most of all, he was always the voice of reason for every moment Jade had doubt. "Come on, Jade. I promise that it will be okay."

Jade's soft, ash-grey eyes looked from Luke's open and extended hand to his concerned blue eyes, before she looked away. "You know better than to make promises that you can't keep, Luke," she whispered as she turned her face to the clouded sky.

"Then I promise," Luke answered as he leaned his arms against the roof, "that I'll make things okay. Is that a good enough deal?"

Jade's eyes drifted momentarily to Luke's, and seeing the pleading look behind them told her that he'd stay with her on that roof until she got off, even if the Peacekeepers were the ones who had to force her down. And that was never something she wanted to put Luke through. He deserved so much more than the pain she'd put him through. "Good enough," she finally answered as she took his hand and followed him down the ladder.

* * *

The two walked to the center of town together, Luke's arm gently and possessively lying along the top of Jade's shoulders. The two never took notice as to when their feelings for each other changed and became more than just friends, and whatever the feelings the two share was, it was something she'd never change.

"You got her down." Kye's voice startled Jade, and when she saw her brother making his way through the crowd, it was the only moment she left the safety of Luke's arms for the safety of her brother's.

"I do every year," Luke replied as Jade hugged her brother tightly. "That's something that wouldn't ever change."

With her two men beside her, Jade finally started feeling more like herself as they made their way through the crowd and towards the sign-in area. "Let's just get through another year of listening to Effie Trinket say her wonderful speech."

"'And may the odds be ever in your favor,'" Luke mimicked the tone of Effie, and the three of them laughed as they made their way to the tables where the sign-ins were.

As Kye left to go and sign himself in, Luke wrapped his arms around Jade's torso and pulled her close into his chest. "See you later for an after party on the roof?"

"You bet," she murmured back as she pressed her face into Luke's shirt, trying to delay the moment she'd have to let go. Luke tilted his head down to meet Jade's and softly brushed his lips against her's, then he let her go and made his way to the check in table.

* * *

When the Effie walked up on the stage and the important and distinguished members of District 12 lined up behind her, all the people gathered in front of the stage grew silent. Jade could feel her fingers twitch out of nervous reaction, though she kept her eyes faced dead ahead. She knew that if she were to look behind her and across, Luke and Kye would be standing next to each other, sharing comments about how Effie's purple hair looked more like wild violets than hair. Jade knew that Luke's eyes would drift across the crowd and fall upon her back, trying –and achieving – to figure out what was going on inside her mind.

"Welcome!" Effie's ever cheerful voice sung above the deadpan crowd. "Here we are, gathered again to choose the lucky two to represent this lovely district."

Jade rolled her eyes and allowed herself to finally look about the people who were surrounding her while Effie introduced the video of the history of the Districts. A few rows in front of her, Luke's younger sisters were holding one another's hands as tightly as they could. The twins, Lara and Marie, were impossible to tell apart on any other day, but today they both wore the same powder blue dress and had their hair in intricate braids down their backs. A few feet to Jade's right stood Honey, a girl who had grown up next door to Jade, and had always been a nice person to her. These were some of the faces that Jade hoped would never win the drawing.

"Wasn't that inspiring?" Effie's chipper voice pulled jade's eyes back to the stage, as two Peacekeepers wheeled a cart that held two glass bowls filled with thousands of tiny slips of paper. Each holding a name that could change the fate of a person's life. "Now it's time to choose the lucky two to travel to the Capital, and to fight in the Hunger Games."

As Effie placed her pink-painted fingertips into the bowl with the girls names, swirling it about the bowl and mixing the papers up. All of the girls standing next to Jade stiffened in unison, as a feeling of dread filled her bones.

It was the feeling people get when they know something bad will happen: something you get before you fall out of a tree, while you're cutting potatoes and you know you'll cut your finger. And it was why she wasn't so surprised when Jade's name was called.

All the faces in the crowd turned to look at her, and she could feel Effie's beaming smile fall down upon her. _Move_, Jade willed her feet, which were firmly planted to the ground. She had barely taken one step before she heard a voice across the crowd state, "I volunteer!"

The eyes that were once on her flew to the speaker who offered up his life, and it took all Jade could do to stop from collapsing in the middle of the aisle that lead the way to the stage as she saw Luke run toward her as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I volunteer," he said again, this time more silently to Jade, who could barely move.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded as Luke helped her walk to the stage and up the steps. "Do you know what the hell you just did?"


	6. giraffe-b0ner

**User: giraffe-b0ner  
**

**So, for this special user, I couldn't find a fandom that she liked that I knew well enough, so I wrote a story that starred her as the main character. So this is specifically for Hannah, who is now a special tumblr person for me, since she let me write about her. Thank you! Check out her tumblr!**

* * *

Hannah was a clever girl; a woman with a free spirit and a wild side. She was the kind of person that everyone should model themselves after, for she didn't give a damn about anyone and had a fantastic taste in artwork. And to show her awesome taste to the world, she decided to turn to the website of amazing ideas.

The idea began on a night where she was cuddling on the couch along with her boyfriend while they watched a rerun episode of the BBC version of Skins. "I'm gonna make a Tumblr," Hannah stated out of the blue when the program broke to commercial.

"'Tumblr,'" her boyfriend echoed, his eyes still focused on the television screen. "What would it even be about? And who would follow it?"

"I don't care who follows it, or even if anyone follows it," Hannah answered as she shifted on the couch to face her boyfriend. "And I'll post pictures of amazing art, sexy men, and drop-dead gorgeous woman. And, who knows. Maybe I'll be Tumblr famous one day."

Her boyfriend just nodded his head in reply, his attention going back to the TV as Skins returned from the commercials. _This is why I date women, too_, Hannah thought to herself as she left the couch to work on her laptop and start making her own perfect Tumblr.

In three days, she had conned her boyfriend into making his own Tumblr, worked on a background theme, and created the perfect screen name to reflect her wild side. She followed people who posted funny GIFs, and people who posted photos of beautiful and controversial things. And only then was she ready to show the public her work.

"_Giraffe-b0ner_?" her boyfriend questioned with a laugh as he sat down in front of Hannah's computer. "That's seriously what your user name is going to be?"

"Shut up," Hannah laughed back. "You're just jealous that you didn't think of the awesome name. Really, _start-by-leaving_?"

"Mine doesn't have 'boner' in the link," he commented as he scrolled down and looked through the blog.

"Well, you're then jealous that the giraffe has bigger one than you." Hannah made the blog's title 'Hello Sweetheart,' and the black and gray background allowed for the photos that she posted or reblogged to stand out and be prominent aspects of the blog. A photo of a school of jellyfish drifted along, and a beautiful brunette girl hung out of an open car door. Along with the text posts that were reblogged were ones that anyone could relate to.

"This is actually pretty good," Hannah's boyfriend finally said, his eyes still attached to the computer screen. "Like, really good. It reflects your personality perfectly."

Hannah smiled inwardly. "Well, that's what it's supposed to do, idiot," she chastised lightly.

* * *

And it was that moment that Hannah started to become famous. See, after a few years, her Tumblr became more and more popular. First, there were just a small handful of followers – nothing more than twenty. But then there were fifty, then eighty, followed by 120 and 243. It just kept growing and growing, as people discovered the magical posts she reblogged.

"How the fuck…" Hannah wondered one day when she looked in astonishment at her follower count. For her, it felt like it was just days ago that she even created that small place where she could publish her ideas and feelings freely.

"I'm going to get a movie based off of me," Hannah called to her boyfriend – the one who had stood by her side for the past few years – as she glanced over her shoulder. Then she thought to herself, _Wow, he really does like sitting on the couch watching 'Skins.' _"Do you ever get up from that couch?"

"Sometimes," he answered back as he finally turned around to look at Hannah. "How many followers do you have now?"

After clicking about through the website, Hannah looked down at her follower count, and she could almost feel her jaw slam against her desk. "Holy shit, it just went up another twenty people. I'm at 287 follwers, now."

"Seriously?" her boyfriend asked as he stood up from the couch and walked around it, and then leaned over Hannah's back to look down at the screen of her computer. "What do you post that's different than what I post?"

"Apparently, not nearly as many awesome things as I do," Hanna answered as she shut off her computer. "I'm on my way to getting my own movie. How many followers do you think I need: a billion?"

Hannah's boyfriend nodded his head in agreement before making his way back to the couch. "Want to watch more 'Skins' with me?"

"I can only watch the episode where Freddie's sister enters the _Next SexBomb_ contest." Hannah picked up her keys and headed toward the door. "I'm going to the mall."

"Bring me a Cinnabun!" her boyfriend called after just as the door closed.

* * *

The mall was packed, just like any normal Saturday afternoon. When Hannah walked through the doors and into the food court, there were hundreds of people milling about and chatting across tables, standing in lines to get fattening and delicious foods, and just standing in the way of people trying to walk past.

_I should get that cinnamon roll, or whatever the hell it is,_ Hannah thought to herself as she headed across the food court, pushing past people and admiring some of the more beautiful people who crossed her path.

The line for Cinnabun was rather long, and as the time moved past – slowly – she stopped paying attention to the people who were running past her and paid more attention to the design on her sneakers. There was a purple splotch of paint on the toe of her left sneaker, standing out brightly on the black fabric, and the white shoelaces were starting to get brown and stained.

If she weren't paying so much attention to her own shoes, Hannah would have most certainly been able to move out of the way of the young girl who was too busying looking at the screen on her phone than where she was going. "Oops!" the girl gasped as she bumped right into Hannah. "Oh, geez! I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay, really," Hannah stated as she fixed her stance, adjusting her wait so that she didn't lose her balance. "Watching something good on your phone?"

"No, it's just…" the girl's thought trailed off as she continued to stare down at her phone, and then she looked up at Hannah through long eyelashes. "I like your shoelaces," she said, almost too quiet to be heard over the loud chatter of the mall.

But Hannah did hear her. And Hannah's eyes perked up. _A dream come true!_ "I stole them from the president!"

Then, the two girls made eye contact, and just stared at each other in disbelief for a few moments. Who would have thought that two Tumblr users would find each other at a mall?


	7. youcanwriteitonyourarms

**User: youcanwriteitonyourarm Fandom: My Chemical Romance **

* * *

You walk onto a stage of bright lights and stand behind a podium. In front of you, you can hear the sounds of an unseen audience, and somewhere off-stage, you know that there's an announcer. That's when it clicks in your brain that you are on the stage to win a contest to meet the band "My Chemical Romance."

"Welcome to _Guess The Lyrics!_" the announcer shouts into the microphone as a swirl of red and blue lights from above your head shine down and dance across the stage. "Today, we have Lauren from Milwaukee, Wisconsin trying to win backstage tickets to see "My Chemical Romance."

The audience applauds and cheers when the announcer introduces you, and you slowly wave. You aren't exactly sure how you managed to get on the show, but you know you really want to win.

"Are you ready to play, Lauren?" the announcer asks from wherever he is hidden.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you answer as you grip the podium with each hand, bending down to speak into the microphone.

"Awesome!" the announcer says, the voice overly energetic and enthused. "The song lyrics you'll be trying to guess for the first round is 'Welcome to the Black Parade.'" You breathe a sigh of relief. It's a song you know by heart, and some confidence that you didn't even realize you lost starts to flood back into you. "What does the father say to the young boy when he took him to see a marching band in the city?"

You know that it's the second verse, and you straighten your back. "That's easy. The lyrics are 'He said, 'Son, when you grow up, would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?'"

The announcer pauses, and the entire audience is silent for a few moments. "That is… incorrect," the announcer states, and you feel your stomach flip. "The real lyrics are 'Boy, when you are old, will you remember the little people, the cranky and the sad?'"

You're eyes search the stage, and looking for the announcer. "No, that is definitely not right," you argue, but the announcer is already moving on.

"You have to get the one of the next two questions right to move on to the next round," the announcer tells you. "What follows 'Sometimes I get the feeling she's watching over me. And other times I feel like I should go.'"

Taking a deep breath, you think hard. _I can do this_, you tell yourself. _I love this song, and I know the next part_. "It's 'And through it all, the rise and fall, the bodies in the streets. And when you're gone we want you all to know.'"

"Again, that is incorrect," the announcer states, and the audience together makes a pitiful sound. "Next question: Who will carry on?"

You roll your eyes. The game-show you're on isn't fair, and it's starting to make you angry. "My wayward son," you growl to the announcer, knowing that it's incorrect.

And it shouldn't have surprised you that the announcer stated, "That's correct!" This whole game had been a pile of crap, so getting the answer wrong on purpose means that it is actually right.

You rub your eyes with your fingertips as the lights flash bright above you. "Now we get to move to the next round! We'll be focusing on the song, 'Sing!' Now, Lauren, what is the song called?"

"Really, is this actually the question?" you laugh through a demanding tone. You're no longer nervous, and are starting to get angry with the stupid game show. "The song is called 'Sing,' you idiot."

"I'm sorry, but that is incorrect," the announcer yells, and you kick the podium hard. "If you don't get the next question correct, you will unfortunately lose the game."

As the audience goes 'aww,' you shout, "This is the stupidest game in the world. All of your answers are wrong!"

"What is the final verse to the song?" the announcer asks, ignoring your outraged shouts.

Huffing from anger, you answer, "The _right_ verse, which you'll probably say is wrong anyway, is 'You've got to see what tomorrow brings/ Sing it for the world/ Sing it for the world/ Yeah, you've got to be what tomorrow needs/ Sing it for the world/ Sing it for the world."

"Lauren, I'm sorry, but-" the announcer starts, but then you hear whispering from off stage, and the announcer saying quietly, "Are you sure? The puppy-counsel aren't lying again, right? Did you ask the donkey?"

* * *

When you hit the point that you are starting to question the sanity of the people who work backstage, the announcer shouts, "You've won, Lauren!" The audience erupts into cheers, and you feel like you should be admitted into an insane asylum after everything that you've gone through. "Now, Lauren, to collect your tickets, all you have to do is wake up."

_Wake up?_ you question, as the stage slowly falls dark.

When you're eyes open and you see the white ceiling of your bedroom, you sigh in relief that what you just experienced was only a dream. Everything is back to being a better place. Feeling better about yourself, you lean over across your bed and turn on your radio that sits on your nightstand.

"So, let's get to some entertainment news," the woman broadcaster said as you lay back in your bed, savoring the few moments you have left before you have to go to work. "What's going on in the world right now, Charlie?"

"Well, Stacy," the man says in a somber tone," many folks around the world are in a crushed state today. The band, 'My Chemical Romance,' has decided the break up."

The smile you had on your face drops suddenly, as though you were a piece of glass that fell to the floor. _This isn't happening_, you think to yourself.

"Supposedly," Charlie continues, "two of the band members wanted to change the name of their band to "You're Anti-Bacterial Hatred," but the rest of the band refused to listen. They now have decided to just all quit the band and not work together at all."

"Wake up," you demand of yourself as you pinch your arm as hard as you can. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

But you don't wake up, and through the closed window of your bedroom, you can hear the muffled screams of people who live around you, as the news spreads. You're bad dream had just gotten worse.


	8. dreamsofadventures

**User: dreamsofadventures Fandom: Once Upon A Time**

* * *

As the purple smoke cleared, Riley looked about the street in Storybrook, her pixie-cut blonde hair flowing out around her face. Thinking about her short hair now made her want to laugh. It used to be so long, miles and miles long, and now it was just barely below her ears. And when the curse was released, she had only spent a year with her real family after finally being rescued from the tower where she spent half of her life.

Riley would be able to find them again, and when she started to walk across the street, aimlessly going as she tried to remember everything about her childhood before Storybrook, someone called her name. "Rapunzel!"

It was a name she hadn't heard in so many years, and when she turned and saw Ruby running toward her, she couldn't help but laugh. "I almost didn't recognize you," Ruby laughed as her fingertips touched the ends of Riley's short hair. "Guess no one will be climbing your hair now."

"Not any time soon, no," Riley lightly laughed back. "How I've missed you, Red." Ruby was one of the first people she became friends with when she returned to the kingdom after being rescued from the tower. She never asked Riley about the ten years she spent in the tower, and she never treated her differently for being abducted by the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin. "Have you found anyone yet?"

"Just you," Ruby answered with a shake of her head. "But Granny and I are going to walk about the town. You're welcome to join us."

And that's what Riley did. She hugged Granny as tightly as she could, happy to see the kind woman again. But who Riley really wanted to see was James – or David, as she knew him in this life. She knew that he wasn't her 'true' brother, who had been slain after agreeing to fight a dragon for King Midas, and she accepted the good-natured man into her heart as a brother anyway.

Then there was the boy who rescued her from the tower – a boy who called himself Ryder. Riley couldn't even remember seeing him at all in Storybrook, and she wondered what had happened to him. A month before the curse, he told Rapunzel that he had to travel far to find something, but he left her without knowing what he was looking for.

"Look," Ruby said, interrupting her thoughts as she pointed to where Mary Margaret and James were standing. "Snow!"

When Ruby got their attention, Riley went and wrapped her arms around David. "Guess I can't threaten to tie your hair to a banister anymore," he laughed as he hugged Riley back, one of his hands touching the back of her head and touching his fingers to it.

"Why is everyone so fascinated with my hair?" Riley laughed as she pulled away and went to hug Mary Margaret. "It's only hair."

"But that means we can no longer say that someone has hair as long as yours," Mary Margaret commented as the two girls pulled away from each other. "I like it, though. Short hair is much easier to take care of."

Riley laughed with agreement, for Mary Margaret's own hair was much shorter than it once was, as well. Now that her eyes had been opened, she realized that everything was different, and that nothing was as it once had been. "What's next?" she asked, as more people started to crowd around them and great one another.

Mary Margaret sighed and looked up at David with a smile. "Now, I find my daughter."

"You mean Emma, who's standing right there?" Riley asked, as she pointed to behind them and to where Emma and Henry were standing.

Mary Margaret turned and wrapped her arms tightly around Emma. Riley couldn't help but think that it was a bit weird that the two had been living together for months, and neither one had an inkling that they were related. But, then again, neither did anyone else.

"Why are we still here?" one of the dwarves, Leroy, asked from amongst the group. Then more people realized that they themselves had questions. People started to ask things, such as why they were still here and hadn't returned home, what the smoke was, and who was responsible behind that.

Spending so many years locked away in the tower, Riley forgot how to handle the commotion of people and the conflict that they oppose upon others. Even in this new land, she always tried to avoid fighting and unsolvable questions. But now she was stuck in the middle of it, and she couldn't find an easy way out of it.

"Magic has been brought here," a voice interrupted, and stepping through the crowd came the Mother Superior – the Blue Fairy. "I can feel it. But without fairy dust and wands, matters are more complicated now."

"Then let's go to the person responsible for bringing it here," Leroy demanded as he looked about the crowd. "The Queen did this to us."

As others nodded in agreement, Emma shook her head. "It wasn't Regina."

"Then who was it?" David asked Emma, his voice softening.

"Mr. Gold."

* * *

As the crowd headed towards Mr. Gold's shop, Riley and Ruby walked with their arms linked together, following behind David, Mary-Margaret, Emma, and Henry. Riley's eyes kept drifting over the city, thinking of how each thing was a part of her home, and yet it was also a strange place. It was like she was locked in the tower again. She knew every single brick that covered the walls, but it wasn't her home.

"Rapunzel," Ruby's voice startled her, bring her back to the present. "What are you thinking about?"

"I just keep getting familiar feelings," she explains with a shake of her head. "It feels just like when I was locked in the tower. Wherever I look around the town, something is familiar, but it's also strange."

Ruby smiled softly at Riley and squeezed her hand. "It's okay," she explained as they approached Mr. Gold's shop. "You're not the only one who has this feeling right now."


	9. mcgeek-in-a-trenchcoat

**User: mcgeek-in-a-trenchcoat Fandom: Supernatural**

* * *

The petite, blonde woman sat in an office chair and spun about in circles, leaning her head against the back-rest and watching the ceiling tiles above her spin. Underneath of the gray jumpsuit she was wearing, her athletic frame was fitting with a tight pair of skinny jeans that were tucked into her knee-high high-heeled boots, and a black short-sleeve tunic hugged to her every curve.

"Dean," her soft voice whined as she paused her spinning so she could look at the tired man who leaned against a desk, staring into five different security-camera feeds. "We've been at this for hours. We haven't detected any shifter yet."

"'We?'" Dean asked as he glanced over his shoulder at the girl. "Christine, you haven't done a single thing since we got here."

"I've kept you occupied," Christine remarked as she started to spin about in the chair again, "which I take pride in having spent hours at perfecting that trait."

Before Dean turned back to the computer, he murmured, "I should have brought Sam with me," but Christine could see the small smile he tried to hide.

It was another five minutes before she heard Dean smirked, "Hello, freak." With that, Christine stopped spinning around in the chair – so quickly that she almost fell off of the chair – and leaned over Dean's shoulder. Sure enough, a middle-aged man who worked at the bank had his head turned toward the camera, and his eyes flared.

"Time to go to work," Christine chirped as she straightened her back, but then she saw someone chaining the doors of the bank locked on one of the cameras. "Shit."

"What?" Dean asked as his eyes followed Christine's to the screen she was looking at. "Damnit, Ronald."

Ronald was the security guard who was on duty at the first bank that was robbed by the Shapeshifter. And since then, he had thought it was his duty to stop the 'man-droid' before he could kill someone else and rob another bank.

"Let's get out there," Christine said with a heavy sigh as she headed toward the door.

* * *

As Dean and Christine walked into the hallway that led to the main part of the bank, Dean whispered, "Let me do the talking. I don't think he likes you very much."

"And why do you think that?" Christine asked back.

"Because, FBI consultant Dr. Rivers, you had to tell him he was going insane."

"It's part of my cover to do that!" Christine shot back, but she was right. Pretending to be psychiatric analyst was not the best cover she had ever chosen.

As soon as they walked into the bank, though, Ronald started pointing at them with the gun and demanded for them to get down onto the floor. Christine was going to argue about getting onto the floor – she had problems with doing as she was told – but Dean had grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her down to the ground. "Look, we're down on the ground," Dean stated, calmly, as he lifted his hands into the air. "Just don't shoot anybody. Especially us."

"I knew – as soon as you two left – that you guys weren't working of the FBI," Ronald stated, and Christine rolled her eyes. "Who are you guys working for? The Men in Black? The mandroid?"

With a harsh sigh, Christine stated, "Did you not listen to me when I said the mandroid was something made up within your mind?"

"I'm not talking to you!" Ronald shouted as he shook the gun at her. "I don't like you."

"But I'm pretty," Christine mocked as she batted her blue eyes, but Dean glared at her in a "shut up" sort of manner.

Ronald then motioned for one of the hostages to frisk them. "Make sure they don't have any weapons on them."

The man went first to Dean and when he got to Dean's boot, he pulled out a small knife. "Dean, I'm shocked," Christine stated, fanning actual shock. "I thought we agreed no weapons."

The man then went to Christine. As he ran his hands about her torso, she smiled wickedly at him. "Like what you feel?" she whispered up at the man.

"Not the time for flirting," Dean remarked, forever telling her what to do. If it weren't for the fact that the two were close friends, and not just him being a mentor to Christine, she wouldn't have listened to him.

The man tried hard to ignore what was going on between Christine and Dean, and when his hand slipped over the top of her boot, still covered by the jumpsuit she was wearing, Christine knew that he could feel the five-inch long, silver throwing knife that was tucked tightly there.

The man looked at Christine for a moment, then stood up. "She's clean," he stated, then went back to where he was huddle previously with all the other hostages.

Dean then had to watch as Ronald dropped the knife down a deposit box, locked tightly up now somewhere deep inside bank. Christine could see him wince out of the corner of her eye as the knife clanked down the pipes. "We know you don't want to hurt anybody, Ronald," Dean sighed as he tore his gaze away from where his knife disappeared. "That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around. So, let's let these people go?"

"No!" Ronald shouted. "If nobody is going to stop this thing, then I have to be the one to do it."

"We believe you!" Dean replied, as he motioned between himself and Christine. "That's why we're here. And we actually have something important to tell you." With a look of puzzlement, Ronald warily walked over to where Dean and Christine were kneeling and bent down. "It's the manager," Dean whispered to Ronald. When he saw the questioning gaze on Ronald, he continued, "Why do you think we're dressed like this, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back, and we saw the bank manager, we saw his eyes."

That's when Dean started to get up, slowly and cautiously, while Ronald leveled the gun on him. "Dean," Christine warned as she stayed on the ground. "My psychology degree tells me that what you are doing is a really stupid idea." The psychology degree, though not a PhD like she told most people, was something she really did have. And she was good at it. This is why she went for the disguise as an FBI consultant most times.

"Take me, Ronald," Dean stated, ignoring Christine completely. "Take me with you as a hostage, but we've gotta act fast, because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change." As a war ragged behind Ronald's eyes, Dean took a step closer. "I believe you, man. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank."

"Alright," Ronald sighed as he lowered his gun off of Dean. "But the rest of them go into the vault. Especially her."

Ronald then motioned the gun back to Christine, who rolled her eyes heavily. "I get that you hate me, but what if you need me."

"Then I'll know where to find you," Ronald stated. "Now, move. You're going into the vault first."


	10. sw087

**User: sw087 Fandom: The Avengers (Iron Man)  
**

* * *

Sophie had it all growing up; a brother, loving parents, and plenty of money to throw around however she wanted. But sitting in the dark dining hall in a gown that cost nearly a thousand dollars, surrounded by other people dressed just as lavishly, she had one thing on her mind. Leaning closely to the man that her brother trusted the most, Sophie whispered, "Where the hell is Tony?"

Obadiah Stane, who was her brother's right hand man and her father's former partner at Stark Industries, leaned back toward her and whispered, "He'll be here."

_He better be_, she thought to herself. The award ceremony was to show appreciation for all of Tony's achievements in his time of being head CEO of the company, but he wasn't even going to go until he discovered it was in Las Vegas. And now he wasn't even at the hall.

When the video that showcased all of Tony's greatest achievements and how he became CEO at such a young age, his friend, Colonel James Rhodes, stepped up on the stage and behind the podium. Sophie glared at the empty seat next to her, and when Rhodey called for Tony and he didn't appear, she stood up with the smile that magazines dubbed as the "money maker" behind her division of the company – the aeronautics division

As Sophie stepped up to the stage, she smiled apologetically to Rhodey before taking the award and facing the audience. "Thank you, all," she smiled and waited for the applause to subside. "Unfortunately, my brother is hard at work, and couldn't pull himself away. But he did send me in his absence to accept the award and thank all of you for giving him this prestigious award. It was always his dream to continue our father's work and to help advance technology for everyone."

The audience applauded, and Rhodey offered his arm to Sophie, which she graciously took before they walked backstage. "Where is he, really?" Rhodey whispered to Sophie once they were out of range of the microphones.

"My guess?" Sophie offered as the curtains closed around them and they entered the wings of the stage. "He's playing Craps."

* * *

Sophie waited at the top of the grand staircase of the casino until she saw her brother – followed by his "man slave" Hogan- head toward her. "Thanks for standing us up like that," she chastised as they walked down the stairs together. "Really, the people at these things don't want to see me. They want to see the prodigal son to whom they are throwing their money at."

"I think they'd much rather look at you in that gown," Tony smirked back, keeping a humored look on his face. Just before the door, Sophie grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "You know I don't like being touched," he said as he looked down at her hand then back up to her face.

"No, you don't like being handed things," Sophie corrected, "and if you don't learn how to grow up sometime soon, you're going to allow this company to crumple at your feet." Sophie let go of Tony's arm and stepped out into the flashing lights and the shouts of reporters and photographers, leaving Tony behind.

* * *

When Sophie awoke the next morning, she set herself to work packing her suitcase. She was to attend a benefit dinner in New York as a representative of Stark Industries and the donation that they gave towards the charity. And while she was away, Tony was supposed to be going to Afghanistan to sell weapons to the US Army. The two of them were good at representing each side of the company: while Tony was the one who liked to see things explode, Sophie liked to find ways to improve the world. Sophie believed she had the harder job since the company specialized in weapons of mass destruction.

Sophie pulled out a red, floor-length gown from her closet that was still wrapped in plastic and laid it over her arm before heading down the stairs with her suitcase. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she came face to face with a woman who was walking around the house wearing one of Tony's shirts. "Hi," Sophie greeted as she placed her bag next to the door and put her dress on top of the bag.

"You must be Sophie Stark, the good-natured daughter," the woman pointed out as she crossed the room. "Hi, I'm –"

"I don't really care," Sophie answered as she crossed her arms over her chest. "And I don't have the time to give you the nice version, but you're just Tony's flavor of the week. You don't have anything special, or whatever it is you think the two of you share. But feel free to loiter around the house."

Without a second glance, Sophie walked past the woman and headed to a door with a key-pad next to it. She quickly punched in her six-digit code, and waited for the lock on the door to flip, which came with the welcome of Jarvis. "Good morning, Miss," the computer system greeted as Sophie headed through the door and down the staircase.

"Good morning," Sophie answered back as she took her time down the stairs. "Can you make sure that my plane is ready to leave to New York by the time I get to the airport?"

"Yes, Miss," Jarvis replied as Sophie reached the end of the staircase and walked to a glass door in the center of a glass wall.

Using the same six-digit code that she used earlier, Sophie pressed the buttons on the keypad and walked into the workshop. Tony had his back to her, working at one of his many "toys" when she walked in, but he asked, "Aren't you supposed to be on a plane to New York?"

"I don't know," Sophie sighed as she sat down behind Tony's desk and placed her feet on the glass tabletop. "Aren't you supposed to be on a plane to a warzone?"

"I'll get there," he answered. "Besides, it's my plane, so shouldn't it leave when I tell it to?"

"Actually, since I designed it, oversaw all its building and construction, and have ownership of 51% of the plane," Sophie rattled as she spun the desk chair in a slow circle, "I'm gonna say that it's _my_ plane."

Tony finally turned to look at her, his face almost an exact replica of their father's. "When are you moving out?"

"Construction's done in two months, so I'll be moving in as soon as that's done," Sophie answered as she stopped spinning. She had designed her own apartment for a building that was under construction in Manhattan. "You'll miss me when I move out."

"No, I won't," Tony replied before glancing down at his watch. "Now look who's going to be late."

Sophie glanced down at her own watch, and almost knocked the chair over when she jumped up from her seat. "Shit, shit, shit!" she shouted as she left the workroom.


	11. 1-url-to-rule-them-all

**User: 1-url-to-rule-them-all Fandom: Supernatural**

* * *

Sophie dropped her tired and aching body onto the bed, not bothering to take off her dark brown leather jacket or her worn-out sneakers. She just wanted to sleep for five years straight. The young woman had an unusually difficult job that day, and it required her to spend the past two days staying awake in the cramped space of her two-door 1995 black Mustang GT.

It was a job that was supposed to take the red-haired girl about an hour to do, since she just needed to wait for the last vampire to return to his nest and discover that the rest of his family was already turned into minced meat. And Sophie had waited with her machete in one hand and a syringe full of dead man's blood in the other. For two long, boring, and _hot_ days.

She never expected that it would have been that hot and sunny in the middle of Texas just a week after New Year's, since Sophie did most of her hunting up in the northern United States. And being stuck under the intense sun being magnified by the windshield, she received a very rosy color of sunburn on her cheeks.

Groaning, Sophie stretched her arms behind her head as she laid face down on the bed. She allowed her pink-and-white French manicured fingernails to remove her hair from the French braid that trailed down her head and ended at the base of her neck, releasing her wavy ginger hair from its holds.

_Now, sleep_, Sophie demanded of herself as she curled up into a ball on top of the bed's blankets, even though the early morning sun was trying to force its way in through the dark purple curtains of the musty old motel room.

The loud ringing of her cell phone, though, was no match for Sophie, and when she opened her eyes, anyone would have thought that her usually bright green eyes would set any object ablaze.

"What?" she demanded into the phone as she pushed herself up on her elbows and cradled her cell phone between her shoulder and her ear.

"_Hey, Sophie. It's Sam." _The distinct sound of the youngest Winchester's voice caused Sophie to sigh heavily. Both of the brothers knew about the job she was on, and how she had just recently finished it.

"Either you or Dean must be losing a limb or dying if you're calling me, or I'm going to kick both your asses the next time I see you," Sophie groaned into the phone as she rolled onto her back and leaned her head into the pillow.

"_You might get that chance sooner than you think," _Sam promised, his voice being gentle and a bit wary. It then became apparent to Sophie that he wasn't the one who wanted to call her, and that he was just the messenger. _"We're working job out in Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife to death with a meat tenderizer."_

"That's not a job, that's just someone who went nuts," Sophie replied as she tried to stifle a thick yawn. "Hurry up and finish explaining what's going on before I pass out."

"_It's the third guy in two months to kill his wife," _Sam continuing, a bit in a rush now. _"None of them had any priors, and they were all happily married. The guys all hooked up with srippers from the same place and then were convinced by said stripper to kill their wives."_

"Sounds like Dean's dream job," Sophie mumbled as sleep started pulling at her again. "You're running out of time, Sammy, so get to the point of the conversation."

"_We need you to get an inside scoop of the stripper joint."_

That was enough to wake Sophie up, and she sat up on the bed, her legs stretching out before her. "You want me to do what?"

"_Look, we can't get a behind-the-scenes look, and if we interview them as Feds, then we won't get the information we're looking for at all."_

"Are you guys being serious, or does Dean just want to see me in my lingerie again?" Sophie asked, hoping that it was that answer, but knowing that it wasn't. She knew that Sam and Dean wouldn't have called unless they really needed her. "Never mind. I'll be there by tonight."

* * *

It took Sophie a little over 9 hours and several large cups of coffee before she reached the motel that Sam and Dean were staying at. When Dean answered the door, she promptly handed him the bag and made her way to the nearest bed, which she collapsed down upon.

"Come on, Soph," Dean sighed as he dropped her bag and gently kicked at Sophie's foot. "We need you to get changed, like now."

"I'm already changed," Sophie mumbled into the pillow as she folded her arms under it. "Just carry me to the car when you two are ready."

"We're ready," Dean answered as he wrapped his arms around Sophie's torso and tossing her over his shoulder like she was nothing but a bag of potatoes.

Gasping, Sophie felt the blood rush to her head as she hung off of Dean's shoulder. "This isn't what I meant!" she shouted as she was carried out of the room and watched as Sam closed the door behind him, a smile on his face as he followed behind.

Then she felt Dean let go with one of his hands, his other arm wrapping around her knees. She dug her nails into the back of Dean's suit jacket, terrified she was going to fall off of him headfirst. "Watch with the nails," Dean winced as he added a bounce in his step, causing Sophie to feel even more unbalanced. "You're going to leave claw marks in my back."

"Put me down, Winchester, or you're going to have claw marks in other, less comfortable places," she threatened as she slowly racked her nails down his back.

Suddenly, Dean dropped her, and Sophie landed hard on her feet. "Happy now?" Dean asked as he opened the door that allowed them to exit the motel.

The Impala was parked right next to Sophie's car, and as she headed towards it, she pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing a very low-cut, sleeveless, baby-blue button-up blouse. She still had her dark blue jeans and old sneakers on, but underneath of her jeans were a matching pair of blue cotton shorts.

"Sophie, you still have too much clothes on," Dean smirked as he and Sam headed to the Impala and as Sophie headed to her Mustang. "You need to take off more."

"Shut up, and lead the way to the club," she sighed as she got into her car. It was the last thing Sophie really wanted to do, but if it meant finding out why these men were killing their wives for the strippers, then it was worth it.


	12. knightjeran

**User: knightjeran Fandom: Supernatural**

* * *

With her pixie-length brown hair fanned out along her face, and her black peacoat flowing out behind her as she pushed past doctors and nurses, the young woman of 26 years looked like a mad woman. Her green eyes were streaked with red veins and dark bags hung under her eyes. The woman had been woken up in the middle of the night with a phone call that gave her the worst of news.

Being the middle child, she always had to take partial blame for whatever her older brother did, and be treated like she only a child like her younger brother. But Shannon would have given up everything in that moment as she pushed past a final doctor in that hospital before her eyes found her little brother

"Sammy!" she cried before she ran at the mountain of a man and wrapped her arm around his neck. "Thank god, you're alright."

She felt Sam's arms wrap around her waist tightly, and then she leaned back and looked at her brother's bruised and battered face. "How's Dad? Dean?"

"Dad woke up a little while ago," Sam whispered, his voice barely more than a ghost of what it should have sounded like. "But Dean…" Shannon saw her little brother's face drop as he took a shaky breath. "They don't know if he'll wake up, and they're surprised he's even still holding on."

Shannon felt her knees go weak, but she held them strong. She had to, since she knew that would be the only thing Sam was holding on to now. So she shook her head angrily. "I should have been there to help you guys. I shouldn't have been out in the middle of no-where Nebraska looking for that werewolf-"

"Shannon, hind sight's 20/20," Sam commented. "Don't blame yourself."

"How am I not supposed to blame myself?" Shannon demanded sharply, but keeping her voice low as to not alert the people around them. "I mean, if I hadn't given up on Dad's stupid quest, Dean wouldn't be the one pretty much dying-"

"But you might be." She knew that Sam was right. Out of all the Winchester children, Shannon was the one who was most likely to take the risky path than the sensible path. "Come on," Sam sighed as he directed her down the hall. "Let's go see Dad."

* * *

While Sam went to clean out the Impala's trunk, Shannon sat next to Dean's bed with her feet propped up next to his. It was weird seeing him in that state, and it bothered her that the brother who was always strong and the one who saved her ass on more than one occasion was looking so weak.

Right after Sam had left, John and Shannon had a fight about her not being there. If she didn't feel as though everything was her fault before, she definitely did after that. "God, Dean," she sighed as she leaned back in the chair. "You can't leave me like this to deal with the Sam and Dad by myself," she whispered, watching his face for any reaction. "You're not allowed to, because I'll kill both of them."

A knock on the door caused Shannon to sit up straighter. Sam was holding a duffle bag – presumably filled with the effects that were in the Impala – as he looked in on the room. "I'm back," he said, his voice tight. "You stay here with Dean while I talk with Dad, alright? You look like you're going to fall over if you stand up, anyway." Shannon nodded in reply, realizing she probably would fall over. "Try and get some sleep," Sam said before he left the room.

_Sleep_, Shannon thought to herself with a snort. _Like hell I'm going to be able to do that_.

Shannon sat there and picked the pale pink nail polish off of her nails, making small comments to Dean in hopes he'd wake up. The sides of her vision began to blur as sleep started to pull at her, but she refused to sleep, even though her tired body was having trouble keeping itself warm and the blood rushed in her ears.

A sudden and sharp blare of an alarm startled Shannon awake, and her eyes darted to the heart monitor as Dean's heart-rate dropped into a flat line. "No," she whispered before the hospital's alarms went off, and nurses and doctors ran into the room.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to step out," a nurse asked as she quickly moved Shannon from the room and into the doorway.

Hospital staff crowded Dean's body, and Shannon shook with fear as she watched them pull out a defibrillator. "All clear," the doctor commanded. Hands flew off of Dean's body as the paddles landed on his chest and shocked his heart, trying to restart it.

A hand grasped her shoulder, and her hand instantly found it, knowing the familiar roughness as Sam. They shocked him again, and Shannon jumped as she watched Dean's body seize from the electric pulse. "Still no pulse," the nurse commented as they continued CPR on Dean.

Shannon rubbed her eyes, feeling the tears she didn't even realize she cried be spread across her cheeks. "We have a pulse," the nurse stated, freezing Shannon in mid-whip of her eyes. "We're back into sinus rhythm."

As the nurses and doctors worked on Dean, Shannon and Sam walked out of the room where they both sighed. "That was…" Shannon started, but something whispered behind her, and she spun around to look at the person.

But no one was in the hallway, least of all near her and Sam. "You heard that, too?" Sam asked her, but it came out as more of a statement.

Shannon turned slowly and looked back at Sm. "He's still out here," she sighed softly, a smile rising to her lips. "Dean's spirit is still here. And he's going to hate us for what we do next."

Sam looked at Shannon with a puzzled expression. "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry, little Sammy," Shannon smiled as she pulled the car keys to her truck from her pocket. "I have just the thing we need to talk to Dean. A Ouija board."


	13. castiel-the-homo-of-the-lord

**User: castiel-homo-of-the-lord Fandom: Supernatural**

* * *

As Dean shut the door to the vault on everyone and headed out with Ronald to go and fight the "mandroid", Christine tied her blonde hair into a quick braid before she pulled the work suit off. She then pulled out the dagger that was in her boot and turned to the man who did the pat down. "Why did you let me keep this?" she asked as she waved it out in front of her.

"Guy has a gun," the man replied as he leaned against the safety deposit boxes that lined the vault. "Figured a knife wasn't going to hurt, and if anything you could be the one to get out of here."

Christine narrowed her eyes, then nodded before she wanted to the front-most corner against the vault door, and sat in it. "Hurry the fuck up, Dean," she sighed to herself as she slid the knife back into its sheath in her boot.

* * *

After a little while, a woman walked up to Christine with the nametag '_Sherry'_ sprawled across it. "So… um… you and that man who is risking his life for us… Is there anything going on with you two?" she asked as she sat down next to Christine. "I mean, he's just so wonderful and amazing, staring down the gun."

"No, there's nothing going on between us," Christine sighed, annoyed, "and, no, he's not that wonderful. He's really a pain in the ass who also makes stupid decisions for a living."

The woman looked at Christine with confusion, but was interrupted by the door opening and Dean poking his head in. In his hand was a small handgun. "You saved us!" Sherry said cheerfully as she got to her feet, followed more slowly by Christine.

"Actually, no," Dean answered as he started to escort in a few more people. "Just adding a few more people to the party."

Sherry watched as the people entered, while Dean leaned over to Christine. "Ronald and I need to talk to you."

"I thought he hated me," she answered with a grin, which Dean rolled his eyes to before he pulled her out of the vault.

As the two started to walk, Dean caught Christine up on what was going on, like the police lining up in front of the building and the shifter shedding his skin again. "Next time you want to take me on an 'easy hunt,'" Christine sighed with a shake of her head, "I'm staying with Sam.

"And how the hell are we going to get out of here, anyway?" Christine demanded as she waved a hand in front of her, as though pushing away her previous thought. "I mean, you are wanted by the police and all that."

"One thing at a time, Christine!" Dean huffed as he ran his hands over his tired face. "Look, I'm gonna do one more sweep of this place and see if there are any more stragglers. Stay out here with Ronald and make sure he doesn't shoot anyone. I found this for you." As Dean went to hand Christine a silver letter opener, she pulled out her throwing knife from her boot. "What happened to leaving everything at the motel? And how'd you keep that?"

"One, I lied. Two, I'm cute," Christine answered with a wrinkle of her nose. Then she sighed, "How the fuck do you plan we get out of this situation, anyway? We can't exactly let the cops in because you'll get arrested for murders, and I'll get arrested for helping you, and I won't last in prison! Do you know what they do to pretty girls in prison?"

"You're not going to prison! Shut up!" Dean demanded in as loud of a voice he'd dare without warning Ronald. He then glanced over at Ronald, who was staring out of a window. "Ron! Out of the light!" Once Ronald moved away from the window, Dean sighed, "It's like I' taking care of two of you."

With that, Dean walked off, leaving Christine with Ronald in front of the now open vault door. "Missed me much, Ronsy?"

"I'm still mad at you," Ronald stated, and Christine sighed before she leaned against the doorframe of the vault.

_This is going to be a long night_, she thought to herself as she looked at the staring and angry hostages.

* * *

Christine was starting to get comfortable at playing the game "how many angry hostages could she hold eye contact with before they turned away" when the security guard clutched his chest and nearly collapsed to the floor in pain. "I've got to get out of here," the older man said through pants of pain.

"Look, sir," Christine explained as gently as she could, "you can't leave just yet, but I promise, it will be soon."

"_What do you mean, demands? I'm not a bank robber,"_ she heard Ronald say, and her face went pale as she turned to see that Ronald had a phone pressed to his ear.

"Put the damn phone down!" she cried to Ronald, who was talking to a negotiator. As Christine turned her back to take the phone and slam it down on the receiver, the old guard was being helped to his feet.

"Look," a well-built man stammered as he looked down at the guard, "this guy is having a heart attack! He needs to get out of here!"

Christine ran her hands over her hair, pulling the hair so hard that it was coming out of its braid. She then picked up the phone and pressed 'redial.' As soon as the detective answered the phone, she said, "I can't tell you much, but one of the hostages in here is having a heart attack. You need to send in a paramedic."

"_Maim, you need to stay calm, and we'll get you folks out of there," _the detective answered, but Christine was already shaking her head.

"You don't understand! Just send in a damn medic, and don't try anything else, okay?"

As she slammed the phone down and watched the guard crumble with pain, Dean walked up behind Christine and leaned his head down to her ear to whisper to her. "Guy holding up the guard," he said quietly as his eyes flickered past Ronald and to the pair, "he's the shifter."

"And he's also the man who's holding up the guy with the heart attack," Christine whispered back, her eyes meeting Dean's as she felt her whole body shake. "And I can't carry him to the door, and there's no way in hell we're letting the shifter _near_ a door."

Dean glanced from the hostages then back to Christie. "We are so screwed."


End file.
